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999,961 Things* 999,961: My first name is really not Mad and my last name is really not Haiku. In case you were wondering. 999,960: No one's ever asked, but the name MadHaiku got thought up on one of those Jack Daniel's nights. A passage from On the Road worked it's way through the fog of inebriation: "...the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn like the fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!'" 999,959: I liked the The Dharma Bums better. 999,958: Because I work for a tight-ass company, all personal blogs need to be company approved. Yeah right, like I'm going to run this past some schmoe in HR. 999,957: I suppose if I were ever found out by a company hack, I'd face some kind of sanction up to possible dismissal. All I can is COME AND GET ME. 999,956: Still, I try to be a good citizen, corporate or otherwise. I vote, I don't cheat on my taxes, I don't lie on my expense reports. Sometimes, though, you just gotta stick it to The Man. 999,955: I work in an industry that a lot of people think is dying; some consider it already dead. 999,954: I cuss a lot. But not as much as I fucking used to. 999,953: I'd like to know what was going through the mind of the last elevator operator at Bloomingdales on the very last ride. Was the car going up or down? 999,952: If I could be anything right now, I'd want to be a painter, like Jackson Pollock except not that crazy. 999,951: The best biography I've read so far is Jackson Pollock by Steven Naifeh and Gregory White Smith. de Koonig by Mark Stevens and Annalyn Swan was not bad either. 999,950: This may come as a surprise, or then again maybe not, but I tend to be a happy drunk. Some of the shit I do when I'm drunk I'll do when I'm sober. Somehow, though, it's just not the same. 999,949: My wife says I'm attracted to needy women. How does she know? 999,948: I have this inexplicable need to understand the principles of grammar, which accounts for the book I'm reading right now: Sister Bernadette's Barking Dog. It's a thin book, but, inexplicably, it's taking me a long time to get through it. 999,947: I'm not much of a joiner. If you run an organization, you wouldn't want me as a member because I would never volunteer for any committees, I would never sell any shit to help raise funds. Hell, I wouldn't even show up for the meetings. 999,946: I do belong to one professional organization, but only so they will have something to put in my obituary when the time comes. I like to plan ahead. 999,945: So far, I have 54 connections (mostly from strangers) on my LinkedIn account. I have yet to find a useful purpose for the damn thing. 999,944: Speaking of useless web crap, is there anything more useless than Technorati? 999,943: A couple of things I used to do but don't anymore: Buy CDs; stand in line at Blockbuster; smoke menthols. 999,942: Am I mocking bloggers who do all these memes by calling mine A Million Things (You May Not Know About Me)? No, not really. I admire them actually. 999,941: Do I really think I can do a million? You're shittin me, right?
*Continued from 999,980 Things
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